Jump in
by dusk5646
Summary: A new jumper emerges, But has to learn how to survive or learn how to die.
1. Chapter 1

I was just five when it happened first time. one minute I was next to the swings in the back garden, the next minute I'm in the living room sitting on the couch. Yeah, It came as a shock to me as well. Well to be honest it still does, but after two weeks of breaking into the sweet store two blocks down just by looking in and thinking hard, I got used to it. I mean, it was only a bit of harmless fun, right?

My real troubles began when I was 13. Up until then I had managed to keep my abilities secret from everybody, but when I hit puberty, things took a major turn for the worst. It was as if my body was against me. my hormones were all over the place, and so were my jumps. It was not fun. This led to all sorts of problems, including one of the most embarrassing things in my life. I should probably explain. See when I was twelve I naturally started getting more interested in girls. Well more specifically one girl in particular. Claire Summers. Now we had been good mates for a few years now. she was in all my classes, lived in the same neighborhood, that sort of thing. however I had been at her house before so it was in my memory. So imagine this, every time I sneeze, I jump. So when you have a cold, its pretty much a constant move around. And just to add the cherry one the top, I'm in the shower, naked as the day I was born. Now that you've got the facts, you can guess where this is going. I'm in the shower when I sneeze, So I jump. When I jump, I end up back in Claires room. Claire's there, obviously. I'm now stood, butt-naked, in her room with her standing in front of me. I can pretty much sum up the next 30 seconds or so in one word. Scream. I'm pretty sure that people in space heard her. I sneeze again and I'm right back home, where I belong. all's good, right? Wrong. about five minutes later there comes a hammering at the door. It's Claires dad, and he's not happy. He barges past my mum, and yells at the top of his voice "JACK RIDER!"(that's me by the way) "GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE NOW" I wrapped myself in a lime green towel from the rack and waddled out. a confused look came over Claires dads face. "where were you about five minutes ago boy?" he asked me, spittle flying freely into my face. I put on my most innocent voice, and replied "here sir". He stared at me for a few moments, taking in my wet hair and towel, before replying "ok, but if you're lying to me boy..."He let the threat hang in the air for a few moments, before turning on his heels and marching out of the front door. My mum gives me a questioning look, and I just shrug at her. I walk back up to my room, and breathe a sigh of relief. Unfortunately my troubles were far from over.

Lets fast-forward six months, shall we? Claire hates me. not just hate, she loathes me. She despises every atom in my body. And because of this most of my classmates hate me, and the ones that don't are too scared to be near me. As a result, I fell into a pretty bad crowd. we used to destroy bus shelters, smash windows, we all thought it was a laugh. However there was one moment when I realized what I was going to become. It was just an ordinary day at school. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping. All in all, a nice day. I had taken up spot under a shady apple tree. This was the only place I could go. Claire had decreed it. I was to be trapped here, watching everyone else have fun, but never joining in. It was torture. So anyway, I'm leaning against my tree, watching the world behind sunglasses. I like sunglasses. you can see people, but people can't see you. my eyes drifted over to the popular kids table. Six months ago I would sit there with friends all around me. Now there was no one but the leaves. I watched as Claire and Two of her girlfriends walk over to the other side of the road. because she's too distracted with her friends, she failed to see the school bus swerving around the corner. The bus is bearing down on her, like a bull and its matador. She finally notices it. Her eyes widen with fear. She know this is the end. I don't know why I did it. It was just sort of instinct I guess. I jumped, landing right next to her and grabbed her around the waist before jumping again, three feet to the left. This really takes it out of me. I stop for a moment to catch my breath, and Claire looks at me, for the first time in months. I stare back for a second, before jumping back to my regular spot. A mixture of shock and confusion sweeps across her face. She looked around for me, her neck rotating like a periscope. Her eyes land on me, and I give her a mock salute. It was then I realized something. That girl hated me. She had made my life a living hell and I had still saved her. I guess, at the end of the day, for all of her hatred toward me, I couldn't let her die. I made myself a promise then. I wouldn't let these powers be used for my amusement. I would stamp out the bad in the world, to protect the good. I got a text later that night, from Claire. I didn't know how she had my number, or why she would waste her time on me. But the two words said it all. "thank you".

I still see her sometimes, when I'm back in town. She's married with two kids and seems happy. Whereas there's me. Thirty years old with nothing to show for it. No girlfriend, no friends, no life. It was just the job, constantly. However It did come with a few perks. I've got a house in every major country and I had enough money to fund a third world country. But, that's what I have, not what I do. I kill people. I'm not going to glamourise it. Whenever I check my computer, there's an email. Normally it contains target name, target description and location. It's then my job to find him and murder him. The worst part about it was that I'm not being paid by some sleazy, slimy, cold-hearted guy with deep pockets. I'm being paid by the untied states basically, several sleazy guys with deep pockets. I don't work for them voluntarily, the exact opposite in fact. I work to stay alive. They found me one night, when I was beating up a thief. I had my back turned otherwise I would've just jumped out of there. Plus when the police stopped me they put a taser round into my spine. 50,000 volts going through your brain definitely scrambles your thoughts. I woke up cuffed to a chair with a bulb shoved in my face. Not fun.

They didn't question me. They didn't need to. From the way they talked, they knew all about me. They knew who I was. They knew what I was. It's quite a depressing moment when your life comes down to a folder with less than ten piece of paper in it. So they talked. They were american no doubt about it. You could tell from their accents. They asked me to ' serve my country' as they put it. Funny, when I started to hum the national anthem they didn't find it patriotic. However they did decide to make me the flag colors, so on some level I was serving uncle Sam. They gave me a time, date and a gun. That's how I got my first job.


	2. Confessions of a murderer

They took me to a laboratory, deep in the facility. There I saw the doctor. He was robbed in a white lab coat Which matched his wispy hair. I was pinned down, my left arm extended. The doctor pulled out a long scalpel out of his pocket, grinning manically. He reached behind him, and pulled out a long hypodermic needle. It was stabbed hard into my wrist, and I felt the liquid slowly flowing out of it. My mind felt like it was dribbling out of my ears. I stayed conscious, but barely. The good doctor then proceeded to cut open my wrist, my skin flapping wildly. I heard him talking distantly, as though he was in another room. "You know it's a shame really" he said scraping my bone back slightly. "I was forced to use anaesthetic otherwise you would be in excruciating pain right now"I tried to tell him he was a monster, To scream at him until my throat was coarse. All that came out of my mouth were mumblings. This entertained the doctor even further, making him laugh hysterically. He began to explain what he was doing to me, relishing in the prospect of describing his gruesome work. "Now I am going to screw this little chip between the bones in your arm. This will help us track you" he held up a small black square about the size of a fingernail. I find words and ask "what happens if you can't track me". The doctor looks up and grins. "Kaboom" he says enthusiastically. "So what, if I go under lead I'm basically screwed?"He looked at me as if I was a four year old. "there is a half hour time limit to get out of wherever you happen to be. You'll know when the satellite is being blocked because the chip will vibrate. Does that cover everything?" I nodded drowsily, and consciousness left me. I woke up on the side of the road with a small red drawstring bag and a mobile phone tucked in my pocket. That's how my new life started.

My first target was Victor Pevtrenski. Born and bred in Moscow, Victor had worked himself up in mafia ranks to get to master thief. The reason Uncle Sam wanted him was because he'd recently acquired some files of the top secret variety. I was to jump to St. Petersburg and hunt him down within 24 hours. If not the target might give away the information. The government had made it clear that failure was not an option. Either come back with the documents, or come back in a body bag. Unfortunately Victor was a man of habit. Every night he would stop at a local strip-club have some fun, then go for a walk to saint basil's cathedral, presumably to atone for his recently gained sins. This was where I struck. A simple matter of jumping behind him, grabbing him, then dangling him into the Moska river. By the time I was done, the man had gone whiter than the snow surrounding him. He handed me a small flash drive from in his left pocket, and then begged me to lift him up. I still remember his face when he fell, terror leaking off his features. The ice cracked like a gunshot as he hit it his own weight bringing him further down into the cold depths below. I stared at the flash drive in my hands and wondered, was it really worth it?

That was 3 years ago. Since then I've gained more experience, no more dangling them off riverbanks. Just cold- blooded murder. But the one thing that scared me the most was a new side of me that was showing. An evil side. A side that liked all the killings. It was definitely going to like this next kill. Sean Drake. Code-name: Serpent. wanted for arms manufacturing and arms-dealing. This guy had sold enough guns to supply a small army. He had already proven that bars couldn't hold him, after escaping from prison no less than three times. Now the Government hoped that death would be able to keep him.

It was a boring day in London. the sky had gone grey, the river had gone grey, everything seemed to have the colour drained out of it. Sat along one of the many benches next to the Thames was a tall man of about thirty, with a black trench coat, with a spiked dog-collar and a 'Bullet For My Valentine' shirt. his jet black hair had a blue streak down the fringe, which covered a face that seemed to be angry at the world. In other words, a stereotypical Goth. This was me. Not exactly what I wear normally but, duty calls. I stared around at the bleak pavement in front of me, dotted with the remains of thousands of chewing gums. Behind me, a blonde girl with shades is talking at a payphone. The target pulled up next to it, taking no notice of it's occupant. He began to sport a wild grin when he saw my less than normal appearance. "Jesus, my fortune cookie said I'd see something strange today but this, well, this just takes the biscuit". he guffawed at his own joke. I sat there, stone-faced, to keep up the impression of a depressed loner. Realising he had a tough crowd, he shifted straight to business mode. "So, you're the guy who wants an M249 squad automatic weapon" he said, sizing me up. "Pretty big toy for a fella such as yourself". He clicked his fingers and suddenly the car door opened. Inside was the gun in question. It was picked up by a set of hands from somewhere on the back seat. Problem. He was meant to be alone. No matter, I'm going to have to improvise. The dog collar that I was wearing had an easy-release system, so that it could be removed without difficulty. I slipped it off, and twisted it around his neck, so that the spikes penetrated the skin. This had the effect of also cutting the Jugular, one of the biggest arteries in the body. Blood spurted everywhere, covering my left arm. I quickly jumped behind the car and grabbed the frame, looking over the water as I did so. In a flash the car was slowly descending into the dark waters of the Thames, a surprised look coming from it's passenger. I watched the car until it vanished, then jumped away.

I appeared outside a penthouse apartment in St. Germaine, Paris. Out of the thirty seven different living quarters that existed around the globe, this was my favourite. I opened the door quickly, and went into the bathroom to clean the blood off me. However, I stopped when I saw a naked man walk out of the door. For a few seconds nobody did anything. Then all hell broke loose. He threw a towel at my head, blinding me for a few seconds. He used that time wisely, and smashed the left side of my face in with a painful right hook. I fell to the ground, blood flowing freely from my eye. I removed the towel from my face, looking at my assailant. He was a teaming mass of muscle, with arms as big as tree trunks. scars covered his body, and he had a broken the way he was standing, I would have said he was a fighter. I jumped behind him, catching him off-guard with a sweeping kick to the knees, bringing him to the floor. He went down like a fell tree. I wrapped my wrist around his neck, placing him in the classic sleeper-hold. "Who are you?" I growled, hoping to sound strong. What really came out were a few scared squeaks. "I'm Noon, dipshit. get off me" he flipped me over his shoulder, putting me in the sleeper hold. I dreaded to think what was resting against on my shoulder. "Since you know about this place, and that fancy little bit of teleporting you just did, I'd say you're Dusk". I looked at him blankly, wondering what the hell he was blabbing on about. "You have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" He asked, a quiet amusement in his voice. I shook my head. "Right, I'll start from the beginning. In December 1981 Ronald Reagan said that the United States government was not going to assassinate anyone ever again. This was complete bullshit. Twelve tears ago an elite unit was put together due to operation daystar. This was a covert op that brought in talented people to... Deal with their enemies. Does that cover everything?" I pondered for a second, before asking " what sort of talents are we talking about?" He smiled. "don't worry, I'm not going to turn into a dragon if that's what you're thinking. When I say talented I don't mean like you. I mean that we have skills. Like me. I was in the marines since I was 15, so I know my way around a gun". I nodded slowly. "And are there others?" Noon considered and then replied "there was two. Then Dawn escaped. She was like you". That made me stop dead in my tracks. "There was another like me?" I asked, the words around in my mouth like a bad sweet. Noon scoffed. "Did you think you were the only one?". I shrugged, embarrassed. This was the only meeting with Noon where he didn't point a gun at my face.


End file.
